


007 Fest 2018 Headcanons

by nekoii



Series: 007 Fest 2018 [4]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Bond Girls, Bondlock, Cats, Codes & Ciphers, Gen, Hacking, Ice Skating, M/M, Other, Q Branch, Q Has a Cat, Rare Pairings, Recruitment, Secretary Bond, WAFF, older!Q, social expert, younger!Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-06-30 04:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 5,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19846000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekoii/pseuds/nekoii
Summary: All Headcanons created for 007 Fest 2018Each chapter is it's own headcanon





	1. Eve Moneypenny

For Moneypenny Monday

* * *

_Eve Moneypenny_

Always sleek, polished and the epitome of sophisticated style. That’s what everyone at MI6 sees. After office hours - and the numerous overtime crisis - that’s when the heels come off.

The heels come off, oftentimes in the car, even before she makes it home.

At home Eve walks barefoot, her feet silent against the hardwood flooring. Once her front door is closed and the solenoid locks engage. She leaves her gun and holster on the coffee table. She knows she’s safe thanks to her good friend’s high-tech security system.

Off goes the pencil skirts, the crisp button ups, the push-up bra. The makeup and the thigh holsters. On with the Relaco shorts and a threadbare t-shirt. A glass of milk and McVitie’s.

Now and then, said good friend would come over after work, they’ll share Indian take-out and watch Doctor Who. They’d talk or listen to music or fall asleep on her couch, a worn afghan blanket draped over their feet.

Now and then, the urgent beeping from two phones would startle the two MI6 employees awake. Eve would be dressed and armed by the time Q would be elbows deep in code. With the former agent’s driving and Q subverting traffic while handling the crisis on his laptop, the duo’s prompt arrival to HQ was a testament to their seamless coordination.

Just another Monday morning at MI6.


	2. The Standing Stone Circle Code

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Standing Stone Circle Code  
> Headcanon : Q-branch hackathon

Every so often, Q would spring a surprise hackathon on his poor unsuspecting minions of Q-branch. 

The first time it hit them, it caught them completely unprepared. R nearly sounded the building-wide alarm for Red Alert lockdown. Good thing Q had given M a heads up. Unfortunately, half of Q-branch nearly had a heart attack when M rejected R’s call instead of answering it. 

She called on the Doomsday protocol phone.

It was serious business. 

Apparently not. Because a few seconds before all hell broke loose - and a few seconds after several minions literally started sobbing - Q walked in. An air of calm confidence as his long strides brought him to the bullpen. When silence fell, he looked up from his tablet. And grinned.

Henceforth, the minions hailed only to their Overlord. 

The next time, the minions were prepared. Being thrown out of their own system a second time, they knew what they had to do. No headless-chicken panic this time. They organised a hack-in. Upon successfully coding into the first level, a pop-up message from Q appeared. Praise and encouragement to carry on. 

Second level unlocked. The timer started. There was a deadline now. An hour and fifty minutes. They didn’t make it past level three. Q walked in, and grinned that Overlord grin of his. The minions sighed, but their dry tired eyes glinted with the challenge they were given. 

It took several weeks before R uncovered an entrance to one of Q’s own backdoors. His signature code was all over it. It was his for sure. And it was password protected. 

Q’s password was never a simple 24-character alphanumerical upper lower case and characters password. Not even in the beginning when he was a student. 

Q’s password was always a code in itself.

Months went by. The minions collective efforts unlocked levels through to sixteen. The backdoor remained locked. They figured, based on how the code unravelled in a specific pattern, that it likely had something to do with circles. 

They tried Pi - of course it wasn’t Pi, this isn’t elementary school - they tried everything under the sun and the other galaxies too, they even tried Wassily Kandinsky’s abstract arrangement of circles translated into several dozen variations of strings of code. 

They. All. Didn’t. Work. 

On the third Q-branch Christmas celebration, Q’s brother dropped by. It was very quick. No introductions were made. But they weren’t Q-branch minions for nothing if they hadn’t figured that bit out.

On a whim, a calculated one that was birthed from the unending brainstorm over “WHAT THE HELL IS THE PASSWORD?” forum chat group, they planted a smart bug on the brother. The smart bug was a simple surveillance bug. Simple, but enough, to infiltrate the humble home of The British Government itself.

They found Q’s childhood bedroom - they felt a little guilty - but all that was washed away by the euphoria of finding the clue they needed the most.

A photo.

Washed out from the low quality of film from decades ago. A photo of Q. With his two brothers. At The Ring of Brodgar, a Neolithic stone circle on Orkney in Scotland. It was the only photo displayed in Q’s room.

During the next hackathon, on an abnormally bright and cheerful morning. Q-branch collective opened the backdoor, surpassing all levels, re-instating control of the MI6 system back to their fingertips.

The Standing Stone Circle’s seventh variation. Q’s password.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Totally winging the whole coding and tech thing. So all mistakes are real and 100% incorrect. ^__^;; 
> 
> Hope this fills the anon prompt on “Standing Stone Circle”


	3. Secretary!Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 00 Secretary! Bond - Headcanon  
> for prompt table fill 00 Secretary! Bond.

Contrary to popular belief. Not all double oh’s die before retirement age.

A small handful retire even before retirement age. I mean, come on, the job risk benefit bonuses and high-profile mission incentives alone is cash enough to retire early. Maybe open a little cafe down the quiet corner and live out the rest of their life in peace.

Well. Only a small handful actually did that.

The rest of the lot? It’d be a cold day in hell before you take the adrenaline out of the adrenaline junkies.

Those who were forced to retire however, never went far from MI6. Always banking on the chance that a sudden manpower shortage would have them filling in on a mission.

One such retired agent was none other than former 007 - James Bond.

Who was currently on suspension as M and the board reviewed his devil-would-cry training regime for the new agent recruits.

Being relegated to secretarial duty had infuriated the former 00. Initially. Until he took Eve up on her challenge.

The best 00-Secretary at the end of the month won bragging rights forever, and one escape pass from any MI6 obligatory company “retreats”. With Bond’s competitive spirit roaring to go. MI6 never knew what hit them.

Need a meeting room booked and ready under 20 minutes? Done in 10.

Need a stack of paperwork sorted by the end of the day? Done before lunch. (Even M gaped at this).

Need a safety briefing planned and executed by this week? Done the day after next.

What ever, who ever, needed done. Bond was doing it in less than half the time. 00 Secretary Bond’s A grade service was baffling everyone. 

M was suspicious, but why do anything when things were better left alone? It was a too good to be true of course, but as long as it remained good, then reap the benefits for all it’s worth.

Once the month was up and Bond’s position of Field Specialist Trainer reinstated, it was back to the piles of paperwork that was supposed to be submitted never being submitted.

No amount of needling could get Eve to spill.

After all, she lost. She wouldn’t tell a soul.


	4. Q's cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q’s cats, a headcanon.  
> Or otherwise known as, how the fondness began.

Q wasn’t a hard core animal lover, he didn’t rescue a drowning kitty from the rain drain, he didn’t really think about cats at all really.

This was all true up till Q reached the age of nine.

It was a bad time at the manor. Sherlock was possessed by the bitter reincarnate of the Grinch - or maybe the devil himself. The winter grounds keeper was at the manor more often than Mycroft, whom Q missed very much but will never say. Mother was around even less so than Mycroft. Father just died. Not that it mattered. Q could count on one hand the number of conversations he remembered having with that man. 

So all in all, it was a bad time, but it didn’t matter.

Except. It did.

Q could lie to himself. But like they said, animals _know_.

First was the stray tri-coloured tabby, rubbing its head against Q’s ankle while he waited for the chauffeur to pick him up from school.

Next was a small black spotted kitten, at a picnic bench outside the library. Its mewling snapping Q out of his daze. It pawed at Q’s notes, rolling and hopping till Q’s lip twitched in a tease of a grin.

Then came the wrangled one eyed tortoise-shell. Q was collecting dubious samples for experimenting from behind a dumpster. One gleaming yellow eye stared Q down, before it settled itself next to Q as he worked.

Where ever Q went, a feline companion always seemed to find its way where he was. A few even frequented the manor grounds, which was honestly quite baffling. The manor wasn’t exactly an accessible location.

Q grew fond of his feline visitors, their greeting meow as they passed him by never failed to brighten his day. It was still a bad time at the manor, but it didn’t matter so much anymore. 

One of the most memorable felines, was a young white-grey moggy. 

Q had sat solemn and alone on a garden bench of the cemetery. The burial proceedings of Mother just ended and Q had sneaked away. Heart heavy. Head hurting. His nose was clogged and his eyes kept dripping and he honestly had no idea why, just that he couldn’t stop. 

The cat walked up on the backrest edge of the bench, stopping right next to Q’s head. Tear filled eyes turned to look at the beautiful creature, its cool damp nose touching Q’s as it sniffed him. A paw came up, soft and warm against Q’s cheek. And in that moment, Q’s heart suddenly felt inexplicably full.

Mycroft and Sherlock found him later, with the grey ball curled up in his lap as he looked up at them with a tear stained face - but calm gaze.

Following that day in the cemetery gardens, a feline friend was never far from where Q was. They had found a place close to his heart and now, his home.


	5. Older!Q

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Older!Q  
> For prompt table 003
> 
> Headcanon of Q is older than Bond switch up ;)

Q had been told to wait.

The nerve Eve had. All because he had threatened to retire early that other time during the department heads meeting. Having served for more than two decades, the Quartermaster of MI6 had done more than his fair share for Queen and country.

Apparently the new agent that would be filling the 007 moniker was handpicked by M herself. An agent that would be like one MI6 had never seen before.

Q agreed to stay on, if only to ease the burden of R and his dear minions as they break in their handling gloves. New agents always proved to be the most stubborn ones of the lot. Over twenty years of handling the double ohs and some things just never changed.

So here Q sat, staring at the landscape of The Fighting Temeraire, feeling very much like the grand old warship. Just then, a good looking young man came to sit next to Q, joining him in his pensive observation of the painting.

In a glance, Q knew that this was the new 007. Groaning internally as he realised that this was a set up. Damn Eve and M and everyone else involved! Q thought back wistfully on his retirement plan. Just when will MI6 let him go?

“It always makes me feel a little melancholy.” The agent spoke. Echoing his thoughts. 

“A grand old warship being ignominiously hauled away for scrap.” He said, looking to Q as he spoke. Q didn’t deign to turn his head, facing forward, eyes trained on the painting.

“The inevitability of time, don’t you think?” His smooth voice with its dulcet tone would have been pleasing to the ear, had it not carried the undertone of a jibe at Q’s old age. The young man had surely seen the obvious streaks of grey in Q’s hair. Not that Q cared, but when seated next to a strapping young lad who was currently throwing quips. It was irksome.

“What do you see?” The agent asked as he turned to face the painting again.

“A bloody big ship.” Q bit back, quips from fresh young agents even before any formal introductions? He wasn’t having it. Excusing himself, Q made to leave.

“Quartermaster.”

Q sighed, pausing in his motion, then sitting back down. Piqued. 

“Bond, James Bond. Your new 007.”

“You must be joking,” Q muttered under his breath after a beat.

What idiot of a new agent announces his name and title out loud in public as introduction? Of course Q had the building secure, but this agent didn’t know that. Young, brash with a cock-sure attitude. Great start.

“Why, because I am not wearing a Tom Ford?” Agent Bond had the gall to throw him a smirk.

“Because you still have spots.”

007’s smooth face betrayed nothing, but the subtle movement of his throat told of a nervous swallow. Despite his age, Q still proved to be as sharp as he used to be. What he had said as a jibe to the agent’s youth, was perhaps taken a bit more seriously.

“My complexion is hardly relevant,” Agent Bond said in a steady voice.

“Well, your competence is.” Was Q’s smooth reply. Watching as that swallow betrayed the agent again. The confidence he oozed with just moments earlier, dimmed, now that those bright blues no longer bore into Q’s. The confident smirk though, he managed to maintain.

Not bad, Q thought. Composed despite obviously being strung up in nerves.

Q noticed all this, only from his years of experience dealing with agents. When in reality, the momentary lapse from the young 007 went by in a flash. A second later, his mask of indifference, of bold confidence slid back in place like nothing happened.

“Age is no guarantee of efficiency,” the agent countered.

“And youth is no guarantee of innovation.“ Q smirked.

Overconfidence looked good on this pretty young thing, the challenge sparkled as their eyes locked on each other.

"I hazard I can do more damage on my laptop sitting in my pajamas before my first cup of Earl Grey than you can do in a year in the field.”

“I hazard I can do more damage on the field scuddy, than you can do with your Walter.”

Q noticed that the agent eyed the side of his chest where his Walter was holstered. So he noticed when James gaze lingered, down Q’s body then back up again.

James made no effort to be subtle that he was checking his Quartermaster out.

“Oh,” Q’s brain stuttered.

"So why do you need me?” Q asked, making a quick recovery. Not quick enough if the agent’s grin was anything to go by.

“Every now and then a trigger has to be pulled,” said the young agent, bright eyes staring right at Q. Cool and unblinking, exuding of overconfidence, like all the new double oh recruits.

“Or not pulled.” Q quipped, offering the smallest of smiles. “Hard to know in your birthday suit. 007.”

Q handed the agent his kit, wished him luck and sent him on his way. A smile playing on his lips as he made his way back to MI6

James Bond. Well this one certainly showed promise, or at least was confident enough to fake it well. There was room to grow still, but a few missions usually did the trick to get these agents on track. 

Q was looking forward to breaking him in.


	6. Recruitment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recruitment - Headcanon  
> Q-Branch Recruitment - Headcanon

After the Vauxhall explosion and the whole Skyfall business. Q was pressed to complete a series of very urgent tasks that had to be postponed.

Number 1 on the list. _Recruitment_.

Q scoured the world wide web, servers both legal and illegal, VPNs, satellites, even dial-ups (because yes, surprisingly but some parts of the world still used them). There was even a small team of minions tasked to several handle names each, tapping on intel the hacking forums and websites could provide them.

“Q, does fandom forums count?” Deirdre has asked Q one evening. Which sparked a heated Harry Potter debate and meta analysis session. Which somehow led into a discussion of if UK citizenship would be a requirement to be enrolled into Hogwarts.

Citizenship didn’t matter to Q. MI6 would readily hand those out should they prove to be loyal and competent. Q would convince them so. Innovation, creativity and brilliance were must haves. So were righteousness and tenacity.

Those two qualities were proving to be rather difficult to suss out of the faceless nameless unknowns that were being shortlisted. A handful of them, good enough to have Q hissing at his screen as he attempted to dig out their true identities in his spare time.

A few, Q had already successfully screened, were sent the job offer.

One - a middle-aged lady from Japan. Despite the sexism issue, she had done her stint in Otsuka, Nomura and NTT. Q won her over from Google, who had already offered her a post.

Two - a 20-something graduate fresh out of Oxford with MSc First class Honors in Computer Science and Software Engineering. Albeit, a few years older than Q was when he graduated.

Three - a veteran of the computer science world with an amazing resume featuring names like Gutech, CSC and Deloitte.

All three accepted, filling the empty desks in Q branch. There was room for more. Q branch needed more. So the recruitment continued. Scouting and screening (or attempting to) the potential candidates.

Of them all, there was one that Q had his eye on from the very beginning. One that had been evading Q and his team of minions at every turn.

 _Robin Hood_.

“That slimy weasel!” Senthu often exclaimed, as lead of the head hunting team, she had been tasked with the most difficult potential candidate to track.

“Speaking of slimy weasels,” Boyd from the neighbouring desk peeked over the desk partition. “Has anyone seen my mouse?”

The missing mouse issue aside. Q had been chasing Robin Hood for over a year to no avail. Well Q hasn’t given up yet. It was only a matter of time.

Once the Quartermaster of MI6 has set his eyes on you as a target for recruitment. By hook or by crook, he will get what he wants.


	7. Lipton tea and Tesco muffins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Q - Headcanon

During the height of Q’s teenage years, he came to the realisation that he had a metabolic rate that was as fast as his typing wpm.

As much as he’d like to forgo food while engrossed in his code. His stomach never allowed it. With most of his money going to computer parts, it didn’t leave much for anything else really. Lipton tea and Tesco’s muffins it was then.

Q swore he’d never sink to that level of desperation again.

…

Photo creds to [@littleprawn](https://tmblr.co/mYN52RwP2b_p2ySiMLmit0g) !


	8. The Social Expert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q, the social expert - Headcanon  
> Q is the social expert

Honestly, how else do you think he manages an entire branch of caffeine and sugar high minions? Productivity keeps peaking, everyone is baffled.

How else does he handle the Double Ohs, running high on adrenaline or alcohol? Dubbed as mindless killing machines, yet it is Q who knows how to play their strings and bring the best out of each, their strengths shine through the specific weapons he designs for them.

How else did you think he got that budget of 6.5 million - for that month! - approved without a hitch.

Enough said. Q is the social expert.


	9. Bond Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bond Girls - Headcanon  
> Bond Girls with unremarkable names

We all know Vesper, Madeleine, Sévérine. Bond Girls that had a crucial role, be it as cinematic eye candy or as a pivotal aspect of plot and emotion.

But have you heard of Jane, Sally and Mary?

Jane, the seamstress. Bond may be attended to and measured by his tailor, but it was her who sews the bespoke armour exactly the way he asked.

Sally, the bartender. Back from a long harrowing mission, Bond knows the one bar in all of London that would serve his drink exactly the way he wanted.

Mary, the barista. Going into what was likely to be a long harrowing mission. It would be this one cafe that would brew his coffee exactly the way he needed.

They didn’t have looks that made heads turn. They led simple, ordinary lives. But they are as crucial and pivotal as Vesper, Madeline or Severine may have been.

Unremarkable perhaps, nonetheless, Bond Girls they are.


	10. Ice-Qubes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU Week - Ice skating Headcanon
> 
> A broken down Zamboni leads to an ice rink-meet

Q is a Zamboni mechanic, as well as an ice rink coolant technician, and overall specialist with regards to all the lighting, temperature control, sound systems, electronic board displays and circuitry that is required for ice-sports competitions.

Stanley Cup, ISU Grand prix, World Championships, Continental Cup, The Olympics - Q and his Ice-Qube team are booked and have several competitions on the waiting lists.

Q even has the Depot over at Minneapolis and Paris’s Grand Palais listed in his impressive resume of engineering wonders he has worked on.

James Bond is an athletic trainer, sometimes he works on sharpening skate blades, sometimes he drives the Zamboni.

It’s not that his job as a trainer isn’t paying enough, with the number of renowned athletes under his tutelage, he’s more than comfortable. It just was that there was nothing to return home to.

James was at a rink in Toronto when the Zamboni there broke down. No amount of his tinkering could get it working again. The Ice-Qubes were in town, so the rink manager called in a favour. James offered to show the mechanic in, the manager had a family to return to, unlike James.

It was on one early 3 A.M. morning that James and Q met. They stayed on after the Zamboni was fixed, talking till the crack of dawn.

James and Q always traveled for their jobs. Never had they had a reason to stay.

But now that they did, they decided to make a home in that town with the rink on which they first met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompt fill for AU Week  
> (neither of them actual ice skaters in this headcanon, but I wanted to give a shout-out to all the support staff that work behind the scenes of the ice skating world. Also, I’m half asleep, pardon any typos. All my fest stuff has been un-beta’ed anyway lololol)


	11. Tan-Q

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tanner/Q - Headcanon
> 
> (I just had to call it Tan-Q coz it sounds like Thank you -laughing at own lame joke- hehehhehe)

.

That scene in Skyfall, where Tanner and Q are (scheming) planning. That happens, a lot, very often. M is concerned. Mallory is disconcerted. Q is absolutely gleeful at their discomfort and Tanner just smiles fondly (at Q) and goes about his merry way. They always share a laugh about it when in bed together, muffling louder guffaws in each other’s shoulder, lest they wake the neighbours.

Also, that scene in Skyfall, with the take-out containers. Well. Someone has to feed our dear Quartermaster on a regular basis. Bond does his bit buttering Q up, but that’s like - once in three or several months, when he’s actually in London and not halfway across the globe. Eve comes by for lunch maybe once or twice a week if she can - and if she’s particularly busy then it’ll be hard pressed for her to have lunch herself. Q-branch minions try to keep their Quartermaster fed as well, but often times they forget to feed themselves so… Not quite effective. At the end of the day (morning and mid-day), it’s always Tanner who pulls through.

Tanner makes sure Q has at least a couple of digestives, or toast, if the morning’s particularly rushed. Otherwise, there’ll be muffins, sandwiches or scones on a working morning. And always, a full English breakfast on the days off.

Q will at least eat more than just one bite mid-day - Tanner makes sure of that. He always knows if no one else has managed to feed his dearest, having sweet-talked Q into giving him the live CCTV feed access to Q-branch directly on his phone.

Their dinners are often had while still in the MI6 compound. Tanner always buys take-away when he knows they’ll be hunched together over work well past working hours. But twice or thrice a week - if Tanner can get away with it - he’ll drag his dearest away from his many screens and have dinner together at their quaint nook in their kitchen. And every month or so, he makes it a point to take Q out on a proper date. Candlelit dinner and all. Tanner knows Q’s grumbles are half-hearted, with the way his dearest smiles at him after their lips part from a more than lingering kiss, he knows.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rare Pair! Read some Tanner/Q during this year’s fest and I find them to be a very sweet couple. They’d be all FLUFF and hearts and rainbows and tooth-rottingly sweet. ^___^
> 
> Credit to [@quartermissy](https://tmblr.co/m1qSC0z2cyRK3qfZ0PekD4g) for this [post](http://quartermissy.tumblr.com/post/172587866070/so-i-dont-know-if-anyone-else-has-noticed-this) and the photo.


	12. In pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bond always returns his equipment - Headcanon  
> Prompt table 003 fill

Bond always returns his equipment. Well, except for that once when the komodo dragon swallowed his Walther whole.

His reputation for returning his equipment isn’t spotless of course, seeing as to how he returns pieces of them more often than the entire item intact. But - he always returns his equipment. At least a part of it.

Q sighed, weary, taking in the battered agent with his concrete-dusted rumpled suit. One side of his face bruised several shades a deeper blue than his eyes, still bright from adrenaline.

“At the very least,” the agent said as Q peered at the thumbnail sized piece of carbon fibre on the tray. “You can always count on my return, Q.”

Q sighed in feigned exasperation, his tone was nothing but.

"Welcome back, 007.”


	13. Glasses, Retirement and Home-cooked meals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon. Prompt table 003 fill - free space  
> Glasses, Retirement and Home-cooked meals - Headcanon

James would wear glasses. He’d need them just for reading at first. But as the years progress, he’d need them nearly constantly. So he wears them on a thin leather band, hanging around his neck.

Q no longer needs his glasses. He’d gone for the Lasik surgery, not immediately, but once the technology had improved significantly, he had it done. It became a little joke between them. How their eyesight's had switched.

Retirement did James well. Many thought he’d go destructive with unrest. It was quite the opposite really. He had a home now, he had Q. The flat was never completely silent, his mind never left unoccupied, his hands never idle. James always kept busy. Q kept him busier still.

Q was good for James. Q got James to see a counselor, regularly. It took several tries before they found one they were both alright with. Q went with James for some, James went on his own for most. After a few years, the sessions became less regular. But he’d still go, voluntarily seeking help when he felt he needed it.

James was good for Q too. James got Q to eat regularly, and actually return home (nearly) everyday for dinner. James always cooked, a fresh hot meal or something improvised from leftovers. Eventually, Q learned how to cook from James. When focused on the task at hand, Q realised that he could successful whip up a decent meal without burning anything. Amazed at his achievement - and the praise from his minions when he brought his first Shepherd’s pie - cooking became his latest hobby.

Between James and Q, they could always count on having a home cooked meal. For themselves and for their chosen family, whenever they come over.


	14. Earl Grey to go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon. Anon prompt fill - coffeeshop AU

Bond opens a coffeeshop just around the corner from Vauxhall. It’s small, but has a certain charm about it. Perfect for him to manage on his own. He gets his pastries, scones and cakes delivered from the popular bakery at Kings Cross. But Bond prefers to make his own sandwiches. And of course, brew his own coffee. He only has two variety of beans which he carefully selects from his favourite roaster.

Q is an exhausted university student and part-time intern. Actually he was starting to feel more like a full-time staff with the amount of work he was putting in this place. The price to pay to get one’s foot in the door. Or so they said. The small coffee shop just around the corner from Vauxhall was Q’s go-to place. Be it before he came into work, or after - when he needed an extra boost to pull him through the extra hours he was going to put in from his laptop once he got home.

The first time the cute thing with a mop of black on his head steps into the shop - Bond was just placing the tray of sandwiches in the display chiller.

“An Earl Grey to go please.” Came the clearly enunciated voice, from the barely awake boffin.

As his sleepy customer was standing infront of the display and was gesturing to it. Bond assumed he wanted the Earl Grey tea loaf. Cutting a generous slice, Bond placed it in a to go box.

The disarming smile the boffin gave him lit up his spirits that entire day. The next day at lunch, the same cute boffin came in.

“An Earl Grey please.” His smile was so much brighter when his eyes shined with it.

“To go?” Bond hoped he’d stay.

“I’ll have it here, if you don’t mind.”

Bond didn’t mind one bit.

A few months later, Q shared over their dinner date, about an Earl Grey tea loaf that brought such happiness into his life - when all he had wanted was tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Anon prompt - Coffeeshop AU - Bond opens one after his time in the Royal Navy, it’s quite close to Vauxhall, a cute, geeky boy keeps coming in, half-asleep.


	15. Need Sleep Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q branch headcanon

Oftentimes, after 2 simultaneous missions each more than 12 hours straight of Q-branch on high alert with all hands on deck. The break room would be full.

The triple-bunk beds all occupied. Spare futons, sleeping bags, hammocks, bean bags, sofas, and any available cushion or soft surface all taken up. Those who had the more comfy office chairs would roll them in and prop their feet up on the pantry stools.

The last few stragglers would bleary eye examine the room and decide which colleague they wouldn’t mind squeezing in with.

This happened a total of 3 times before Tanner walked in one Wednesday morning and nearly stepped on someone’s hand, then tripped on someone else’s ankle, resulting in his falling on top of two minions squeezed on the lower bunk.

M declared that the minions had to leave MI6 and get proper rest after an emergency shift (or their shift in general).

That plan quickly failed after the next emergency. 

Minions A1 and R1 were found huddled in their sleeping bags in an empty storage cabinet. L1 and V4 didn’t even bother hiding, having fallen asleep on their desks.

J8 thought taking the tube was a good idea, and so was captured, apparently lured into a shark shaped van by the cute kitties.

(It was a good thing the captors released J8 soon after, all they wanted was for Qbranch to solve a word search, a riddle and do a little bit of decoding.)

X8 also had the not so ingenious idea of taking the tube, the station master called the ambulance in on them when they were barely coherent when asked to alight at the end of the Victoria line.

P3, C3 and B3 actually had the sense to use the company cars. However, when the driver was unable to wake them upon arriving at their apartment. The sleeping minions were sent back to MI6 - straight to medical. The driver thought they had fainted.

Q10 and Z10 was not seen leaving the building, yet they appeared quite refreshed when they returned for their shift the next day. No one knows their secret, for now.

Tanner was called in to assist Q in hiring new minions and sort through his stringent recruitment process. In the following month, 2 new minions were hired, with another 3 more pending clearance scheduled to join the month after. A standby shift was established with protocols on staff rotations for emergencies.

After 3 months of teething out the new system, Tanner no longer had any issues with exhausted minions mishaps. The issue with the exhausted Quartermaster however. That was one problem that would be harder to crack. But with the Q branch minions properly rested, collectively, their overlord was sufficiently looked out for.


	16. Scrabble Code

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Q Branch Scrabble Code Headcanon

.

1\. A E I L N O R S T U

2\. D G 

3\. B C M P 

4\. F H V W Y

5\. K

8\. J X

10\. Q Z

.

Contrary to popular belief, the second in command of Q branch is not R

R leads the floor - R is the Q branch minion with the best inter personal skills. That’s why everyone is always communicating with R. That’s why R is the one in-charge when Q isn’t around. In that sense, R is the pseudo second in command. 

But when Q isn’t around, R isn’t the one managing the technological fort. It’s a hectic enough job managing the whole branch. The ones holding up the fort are always the collection of digits that add up to 10. 

It could be J8 and G2. It could also be F4, V4, A1 and L1. It depends on which particular skill set was required. Thus calling upon the combination best fit for the job.

Presently, there isn’t any one person who would dare claim the title as being the second in command of Q branch.

Except Z10.

Z10 appeared twice. Holding the fort and firewalls on their own. And on both occasions combined, it accounted for every minion in Q branch. The running rumour was that Z10, was actually Q himself. A safeguard protocol or something. Everyone was sure Q installed it to run automatically. That, or it was another of Q’s many personas he had online.

Z10 may remains a mystery for now, but the minions would uncover it one day. 

Q was sure of it.

.


End file.
